I'm headed out of town for the long Labor Day weekend, I'll be attending a barbecue hosted by some of the people that play on my online RPG. I'm looking forward to it for the most part. It is a bit ironic that I'm going, seeing as I am in the process of playing out the plotline that will ultimately result in my character's death. I've played there for over 3 years now and it is where I met a number of good friends, including BiB. Some of the others I'll no doubt talk about here on occasion as well -- Irish, and HD, and RiG -- but those are for another time. At least most of them are, for I'll be speaking of Irish here in just a minute.
Anyway, about my retirement. I've resisted it for some time but with the divorce and all the other changes in my life, I just figured one more change wasn't any big deal. It was well past high time to close that chapter. But who knows, I might go back in after a while, sign up again under a new name, pick a new person to play. Perhaps my disillusionment isn't so much about the game as it was about that particular character. After playing her last night, it certainly seems so. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Another blogger I read was talking about her List, a list of all the sex partners she's ever had. It made me do a quick mental tab of all of mine. Not nearly as many as a lot of the other commenters have, believe me. I have a lot to catch up on. Hah!
Speaking of, I've been noticing something that's been disturbing me. I'm hoping it's due to a number of outside forces like stress and all, but that's never seemed to put me out in this manner before. Given all my years of sexual problems and pain, about the only way I enjoyed sex was solo -- i.e., masturbation. Why would this sort of sex appeal to me more than the garden, two-person sharing variety? Easy. I didn't have to worry about what that nice little buzzing thing was thinking or if I'd injure its ego or hurt its feelings. No one to worry about but me and me alone. Done? Great, turn it off! No kissing or cuddling or none of the how was it for you? or did I satisfy you? or sorry I couldn't have sex like a normal person. It was totally free of all the emotional baggage that came along with being with a real live man with a real live dick. Besides, my hormones -- or lack thereof due to my hysterectomy -- aren't given to maintaining a high level of arousal. That, and if it isn't new and exciting all my desire sort of dissolves as soon as I start getting the least worried about something in bed. All this is so tiring that I am just sick of it. Hence, a sweet little vibrator. It, and me, and no questions asked.
So lately I'm using the thing and I can't seem to work up any enthusiasm. It doesn't feel as good or it's not turning me on like normal, or something. Hells, I actually fell asleep doing it the other night! For the love of god! Maybe it's because it's the same old vibrator and now that I'm poor I can't get a nice one like this little sweetie here or for a twist off the beaten path, I'd not mind trying this. But really, I haven't a clue. I'm worried way more than I should be perhaps, but if I lose this aspect of my sexuality what will I be left with? Nothing. And that prospect isn't a good one at all.
I mentioned it to my friend Irish the other day in chat and this is what he had to say:
Me : And honestly, even when I'm doing myself it's taking longer and I'm not as interested. I can't figure it out.
Irish: hahaha, you have no idea how crazy that sounds. Maybe you just need to take yourself out to dinner and a movie before you make love to yourself? Put the romance back into it??
Me: Ha! I think if I dated myself, I'd have to dump me.
----
Yeah, I'd have to dump me.
Man, is this sad or what?
(Song: "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by the Police. Lyrics here: http://stingetc.com/lyrics/everylit.shtml ))
Friday, August 31, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
'Cause There's Beauty In The Breakdown
The last couple days have been really good ones for me. Life is evening out. I'm hoping this isn't something that will just pack up and move off in a few weeks; instead, I'm hoping it's decided to stay a while.
I enjoy reading other's blogs and am constantly amazed/overwhelmed/intimidated by some of what I see out there. I especially like reading those that manage to capture snippets of life and whirl them like tops until they come out snide or hilarious. The talent there is something I envy. Me? I'm just so absorbed in the details of my relationships lately that I'm like the proverbial broken record. I hope to find more to talk about someday than all this minutia. Don't I pay a therapist for all this bullshit? Oh, no, that was a few months ago. Hah!
This weekend I had dinner over at stbx's. He was out of sorts and I suspected it was because we were to talk more about the impending divorce but I learned it was something entirely different. I won't go into how he eventually chose to share what he shared with me, but it was due to a number of valid reasons. He had ended up attempting to become intimate with another woman, only to have his body play tricks upon him. This was the first time in his entire life that this had happened to him and he was very, very shaken by it.
I talked him through it -- I wasn't at all upset by his actions or his words (the fact that I wasn't was very, very telling about my feelings about him now) but I was concerned that his confidence had been shaken. It really bothered me to see him so unsure of himself. I said that I knew that it was one of those temporary things, and that his idea of sex had never been just to fuck. He wanted intimacy and when his heart and mind were in one place he'd be fine. It didn't mean he was a wimp, it meant he was an honest and decent man and not an asshole.
But I did tell him something I felt he needed to hear. Call me a bitch, but I'll readily admit a piece of me felt vindication. I hope it never happens to him again because I don't wish that upon him, but I was glad that it had! Oh yes indeed! And why? Because for the first time I was able to speak to him about my own feelings on that subject and use a point of reference that he was now intimately familiar with instead of thinking of me as the abnormality -- the freak.
So I said to him, "Now you can truly understand how I've felt for years because of my medical issues. You can truly empathize with the feeling of having your mind want to do something but your body simply won't and how that undermines your confidence at a deep level." I paused and then said, more quietly,"Look how this is bothering you, and this was just once. Now imagine if it happened over and over for years with people telling you it was all in your head. How long would you put yourself through it? When would you start avoiding it completely? When would you have enough?"
He nodded slowly and said he was sorry for all that he'd said and thought. I said thank you and we looked at each other with understanding. One more small piece of closure that I am extremely grateful for.
This morning I was getting ready for work and I thought about him. I am so happy that I've not lost the parts of him that I still love. I have so much to be thankful for. Even now, when we are going our separate ways, we have each other's back.
I'm glad I can talk to him, spend time with him, share thoughts and feelings with him. Make sure we're both okay. But I am soooooooo glad I do not have to climb into bed with him. There wasn't ever enough room; there was always him and me and this other nasty heavy thing that seemed to lay between us. I don't have to deal with that thing any longer, it's gone now.
Thank goodness.
Next time, maybe I can talk about change. Change is good!
((Song: "Let Go" by Frou Frou. Lyrics here: http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/gardenstate/letgo.htm ))
I enjoy reading other's blogs and am constantly amazed/overwhelmed/intimidated by some of what I see out there. I especially like reading those that manage to capture snippets of life and whirl them like tops until they come out snide or hilarious. The talent there is something I envy. Me? I'm just so absorbed in the details of my relationships lately that I'm like the proverbial broken record. I hope to find more to talk about someday than all this minutia. Don't I pay a therapist for all this bullshit? Oh, no, that was a few months ago. Hah!
This weekend I had dinner over at stbx's. He was out of sorts and I suspected it was because we were to talk more about the impending divorce but I learned it was something entirely different. I won't go into how he eventually chose to share what he shared with me, but it was due to a number of valid reasons. He had ended up attempting to become intimate with another woman, only to have his body play tricks upon him. This was the first time in his entire life that this had happened to him and he was very, very shaken by it.
I talked him through it -- I wasn't at all upset by his actions or his words (the fact that I wasn't was very, very telling about my feelings about him now) but I was concerned that his confidence had been shaken. It really bothered me to see him so unsure of himself. I said that I knew that it was one of those temporary things, and that his idea of sex had never been just to fuck. He wanted intimacy and when his heart and mind were in one place he'd be fine. It didn't mean he was a wimp, it meant he was an honest and decent man and not an asshole.
But I did tell him something I felt he needed to hear. Call me a bitch, but I'll readily admit a piece of me felt vindication. I hope it never happens to him again because I don't wish that upon him, but I was glad that it had! Oh yes indeed! And why? Because for the first time I was able to speak to him about my own feelings on that subject and use a point of reference that he was now intimately familiar with instead of thinking of me as the abnormality -- the freak.
So I said to him, "Now you can truly understand how I've felt for years because of my medical issues. You can truly empathize with the feeling of having your mind want to do something but your body simply won't and how that undermines your confidence at a deep level." I paused and then said, more quietly,"Look how this is bothering you, and this was just once. Now imagine if it happened over and over for years with people telling you it was all in your head. How long would you put yourself through it? When would you start avoiding it completely? When would you have enough?"
He nodded slowly and said he was sorry for all that he'd said and thought. I said thank you and we looked at each other with understanding. One more small piece of closure that I am extremely grateful for.
This morning I was getting ready for work and I thought about him. I am so happy that I've not lost the parts of him that I still love. I have so much to be thankful for. Even now, when we are going our separate ways, we have each other's back.
I'm glad I can talk to him, spend time with him, share thoughts and feelings with him. Make sure we're both okay. But I am soooooooo glad I do not have to climb into bed with him. There wasn't ever enough room; there was always him and me and this other nasty heavy thing that seemed to lay between us. I don't have to deal with that thing any longer, it's gone now.
Thank goodness.
Next time, maybe I can talk about change. Change is good!
((Song: "Let Go" by Frou Frou. Lyrics here: http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/gardenstate/letgo.htm ))
Friday, August 24, 2007
Here's My Gift To You, Accept It
The dinner was not at all like my imagination pictured it. It felt like.......hm. I know this will sound silly, but it was like putting chocolate icing on a cake. It was like adding that final touch of sweetness to a perfectly baked confection. Making it whole.
We sat in the restaurant and talked for over an hour. He told me again about the value he placed on my friendship and my willingness to stay with it for years after we both knew that it wasn't the same. He said he felt at peace now, knowing that he was able to let go of all the resentment that he'd felt obligated to hold onto for his pride's sake. He said he knew that his pride was standing in the way of resolution and risking the loss of all that he still had. He said he might marry again but that any woman he met would have to be able to deal with me in his life as the sort of close friend that only a lifetime can earn.
He thanked me for laying all our issues aside when he was injured in a motorcycle accident last year and being there for him, and that doing so was one of the things that showed him what sort of woman I was. We spoke about the choices we are making now -- he said that my choice to risk my relationship with my daughter and putting myself into my now-precarious financial situation showed him how important doing the right thing was to me; that I was not just talking the talk but walking the walk. He said he had such admiration for me because of that.
He told me we were doing the right thing. That he was okay. And I could see the truth of all of that in his eyes. He did give me some peace. He even laughed and said, "Who knows? When we're in our 60s and all dried up, maybe we'll marry again."
I told him he was the love of my life. Though I've had others, some stronger and more passionate, those are baby-loves......adolescent ones, not allowed to blossom into full maturity. My love for him was the only one that became an adult. I don't regret a thing.
We both had tears in our eyes at points. He held my hand on occasion. We stood when it was time to go and hugged and kissed cheeks. We left it like we went into it -- with love.
My stbx is such an incredible man. I was so lucky to call him husband. I am equally lucky to still call him friend.
((Song: "Gift" by Rocco Deluca and the Burden. Lyrics here:
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/roccodelucatheburden/gift.html ))
We sat in the restaurant and talked for over an hour. He told me again about the value he placed on my friendship and my willingness to stay with it for years after we both knew that it wasn't the same. He said he felt at peace now, knowing that he was able to let go of all the resentment that he'd felt obligated to hold onto for his pride's sake. He said he knew that his pride was standing in the way of resolution and risking the loss of all that he still had. He said he might marry again but that any woman he met would have to be able to deal with me in his life as the sort of close friend that only a lifetime can earn.
He thanked me for laying all our issues aside when he was injured in a motorcycle accident last year and being there for him, and that doing so was one of the things that showed him what sort of woman I was. We spoke about the choices we are making now -- he said that my choice to risk my relationship with my daughter and putting myself into my now-precarious financial situation showed him how important doing the right thing was to me; that I was not just talking the talk but walking the walk. He said he had such admiration for me because of that.
He told me we were doing the right thing. That he was okay. And I could see the truth of all of that in his eyes. He did give me some peace. He even laughed and said, "Who knows? When we're in our 60s and all dried up, maybe we'll marry again."
I told him he was the love of my life. Though I've had others, some stronger and more passionate, those are baby-loves......adolescent ones, not allowed to blossom into full maturity. My love for him was the only one that became an adult. I don't regret a thing.
We both had tears in our eyes at points. He held my hand on occasion. We stood when it was time to go and hugged and kissed cheeks. We left it like we went into it -- with love.
My stbx is such an incredible man. I was so lucky to call him husband. I am equally lucky to still call him friend.
((Song: "Gift" by Rocco Deluca and the Burden. Lyrics here:
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/roccodelucatheburden/gift.html ))
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Now I Must Go.....and Let Go
I meet stbx for dinner tonight at a local restaurant. I'm to bring all the divorce forms and we're planning to eat and talk over things. He told me he's saved enough money now to do this and that we need to go ahead and get things squared away.
I should be happy, right? Or relieved, at least?
The ties -- however soft they have always rested upon my wrists -- are about to be loosed and my freedom is near at hand. It is what these last two years have slowly and inexorably moved towards. I know that I am making the only decision I can given all the variables. I know that even if I stayed I would not be the woman he wants me to be. I would be all right for a few years and then, as it has been since the beginning, I would become distant, angry, resentful, unresponsive to his overtures, unappreciative. I would refuse to be intimate with him and find no desire for him as a wife should have for her husband in my heart. I would only find friendship, regard, companionship. I would torture him as he tries to make me happy and cannot.
All these things I ~know~ to be true. And yet I hesitate. Now that the time is here, my heart is hurting. Yes, my wrists might be unlocked and my true nature allowed to breathe. I will no longer cause any hurt to him. I am doing ~good~ for him and for me. But the deep needy part of me is screaming at me to grab hold of all the comfort and security and not let go. It is asking me, "What the fuck are you doing?"
God, I want to stop this. I want to go back. I want to change. I want to say that I can.
But I can't. I know better, finally. I owe this to the both of us, to stop the merry go round. So no matter what, this will be done. It must.
((Song: "Silver Moon" by Michael Nesmith. Lyrics here:
http://www.morethanweimagine.com/loose/silver_moon.html ))
I should be happy, right? Or relieved, at least?
The ties -- however soft they have always rested upon my wrists -- are about to be loosed and my freedom is near at hand. It is what these last two years have slowly and inexorably moved towards. I know that I am making the only decision I can given all the variables. I know that even if I stayed I would not be the woman he wants me to be. I would be all right for a few years and then, as it has been since the beginning, I would become distant, angry, resentful, unresponsive to his overtures, unappreciative. I would refuse to be intimate with him and find no desire for him as a wife should have for her husband in my heart. I would only find friendship, regard, companionship. I would torture him as he tries to make me happy and cannot.
All these things I ~know~ to be true. And yet I hesitate. Now that the time is here, my heart is hurting. Yes, my wrists might be unlocked and my true nature allowed to breathe. I will no longer cause any hurt to him. I am doing ~good~ for him and for me. But the deep needy part of me is screaming at me to grab hold of all the comfort and security and not let go. It is asking me, "What the fuck are you doing?"
God, I want to stop this. I want to go back. I want to change. I want to say that I can.
But I can't. I know better, finally. I owe this to the both of us, to stop the merry go round. So no matter what, this will be done. It must.
((Song: "Silver Moon" by Michael Nesmith. Lyrics here:
http://www.morethanweimagine.com/loose/silver_moon.html ))
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
And For A Sec I Thought I Sounded Sweet, But Sure Enough....
Is this, and will this be, the story of the rest of my life?
I don't know.
--------
I could stay awhile
But sooner or later I'll break your smile
And I can tell a joke
But one of these days I'm bound to choke
And we might start to kiss
But I feel like I can't go through with this
And I bet we could build a home
But I know the right thing for me to do is to leave you alone
I'm beginning to like you
So you probably won't get what I'm going to do.
I'm walking away from you
It probably don't make no sense to you.
But I'm trying to save you
From all of the things that I'll probably say or do.
You'll probably call me a fool
And say I'm doing exactly what a coward would do.
And I'm beginning to like you
It's a shame, what a lame way to live
But what can I do?
Well I hope you appreciate what I do...
I'm a martyr for my love for you.
(Song: "I'm A Martyr For My Love For You" by the White Stripes. Lyrics here:
http://www.whitestripes.com/lo-fi/discs.html?type=albums&release=1&track=11 ))
I don't know.
--------
I could stay awhile
But sooner or later I'll break your smile
And I can tell a joke
But one of these days I'm bound to choke
And we might start to kiss
But I feel like I can't go through with this
And I bet we could build a home
But I know the right thing for me to do is to leave you alone
I'm beginning to like you
So you probably won't get what I'm going to do.
I'm walking away from you
It probably don't make no sense to you.
But I'm trying to save you
From all of the things that I'll probably say or do.
You'll probably call me a fool
And say I'm doing exactly what a coward would do.
And I'm beginning to like you
It's a shame, what a lame way to live
But what can I do?
Well I hope you appreciate what I do...
I'm a martyr for my love for you.
(Song: "I'm A Martyr For My Love For You" by the White Stripes. Lyrics here:
http://www.whitestripes.com/lo-fi/discs.html?type=albums&release=1&track=11 ))
Monday, August 20, 2007
Will You Ever Win...
I'm back from my out of town trip. I enjoyed the time with my brother and sister-in-law. Those two are made for each other and it makes me smile to see their relationship. It's definitely not the norm, as my brother is more than a little misanthropic. Somehow, though, they make it work. It gives me hope -- however jaded I happen to be right now -- that there is indeed someone for everyone.
While out of town, stbx* called. He wanted to tell me something, he said; get some things off his chest. So I settled down to listen.
I won't go into all of the details about what was said. Summarized, he told me that for the last few years he's held varying degrees of resentment towards me for a number of reasons that run the gamut from my isolationist attitude to my chilly demeanor to treating him like a friend and not a lover. He didn't have to be specific, as I easily filled in all he'd left blank. He said that he had been waking up the last couple mornings thinking about me and wondering why he was doing so -- even berating himself for doing so -- but finally he decided to confront the reasons why he was. He said that when he did, he found that the only thing he wanted to do was accept the fact that I did what was best, that he knew it and had just kept trying to refuse to admit that he knew I'd done the hard thing but the only thing.
He said he thought I was a fantastic person. He said he respected my strength and my honesty, and my ability to look at what we were straight in the face and state that it wasn't what it had been any longer. He said he valued our friendship -- which was what it was at the beginning -- and that he wished to keep that strong. He said that we'd had a wonderful marriage and a wonderful life and a wonderful daughter and he didn't regret any of it.
He said he wanted me to know that I needn't feel any guilt about hurting him, nor should I carry any of it any more. He didn't want me to feel like the bad guy. He wanted me to know that he still loved me and always would, but that he felt like it would change into the sort of love that we would be able to carry forward. He told me what he told me so that I would not hurt so bad at causing so much hurt.
What a remarkable human being he is, to do this sort of thing for the one that left you behind. How lucky I was to know him. No, let me correct that: how lucky I am to know him. In essence, he told me everything that any person who left someone behind would need to hear in order to feel at peace.
Why then, did it tear me up to hear all this? Instead of feeling at peace, I found myself chafing. I know why I felt this way. I do because I carry things around from the relationship that chafe me. I have burdens he does not understand. I have debts to pay. These debts would be easier if he wasn't around all the time, reminding me with his presence, but I think that I am going to have to accept that as part of the payment. Besides, how do you politely say, "I appreciate the offer of friendship but I'd really rather you stay mad at me so that we don't have to see each other much?"
You don't. So I pay my debt in silence. He is being a hell of a person here, and the least I can do is allow him the right to do so.
(* = soon to be ex-hub)
((Song: "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. Lyrics here:
http://www.fleetwoodmac.net/penguin/lyrics/r/rhiannon.htm ))
While out of town, stbx* called. He wanted to tell me something, he said; get some things off his chest. So I settled down to listen.
I won't go into all of the details about what was said. Summarized, he told me that for the last few years he's held varying degrees of resentment towards me for a number of reasons that run the gamut from my isolationist attitude to my chilly demeanor to treating him like a friend and not a lover. He didn't have to be specific, as I easily filled in all he'd left blank. He said that he had been waking up the last couple mornings thinking about me and wondering why he was doing so -- even berating himself for doing so -- but finally he decided to confront the reasons why he was. He said that when he did, he found that the only thing he wanted to do was accept the fact that I did what was best, that he knew it and had just kept trying to refuse to admit that he knew I'd done the hard thing but the only thing.
He said he thought I was a fantastic person. He said he respected my strength and my honesty, and my ability to look at what we were straight in the face and state that it wasn't what it had been any longer. He said he valued our friendship -- which was what it was at the beginning -- and that he wished to keep that strong. He said that we'd had a wonderful marriage and a wonderful life and a wonderful daughter and he didn't regret any of it.
He said he wanted me to know that I needn't feel any guilt about hurting him, nor should I carry any of it any more. He didn't want me to feel like the bad guy. He wanted me to know that he still loved me and always would, but that he felt like it would change into the sort of love that we would be able to carry forward. He told me what he told me so that I would not hurt so bad at causing so much hurt.
What a remarkable human being he is, to do this sort of thing for the one that left you behind. How lucky I was to know him. No, let me correct that: how lucky I am to know him. In essence, he told me everything that any person who left someone behind would need to hear in order to feel at peace.
Why then, did it tear me up to hear all this? Instead of feeling at peace, I found myself chafing. I know why I felt this way. I do because I carry things around from the relationship that chafe me. I have burdens he does not understand. I have debts to pay. These debts would be easier if he wasn't around all the time, reminding me with his presence, but I think that I am going to have to accept that as part of the payment. Besides, how do you politely say, "I appreciate the offer of friendship but I'd really rather you stay mad at me so that we don't have to see each other much?"
You don't. So I pay my debt in silence. He is being a hell of a person here, and the least I can do is allow him the right to do so.
(* = soon to be ex-hub)
((Song: "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. Lyrics here:
http://www.fleetwoodmac.net/penguin/lyrics/r/rhiannon.htm ))
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I Don’t Blame You
Been thinking about something concerning the recent conversation between stbx-hub and I this weekend. We spoke about a lot of things but I mentioned something that has been on my mind a lot. I wanted his take on how our kiddo was dealing with the split and if he'd had any insight about how how she felt about me.
He said that she'd said a few things that let him know that she was placing a bit of the blame on me. He was quick to say that he felt she was showing him her loyalty by defending him and letting him know she was there for him. He said he always told her not to judge me too harshly and that he did let her speak of her feelings without allowing her to disrespect me in word or deed.
It didn't surprise me. It's anyone's first instinct to lash out and place blame when they hurt. And no matter what she says to my face, she's hurt at this. I'm convenient, the one that makes the most sense to blame. After all, I'm the one that left.
She's defending her dad -- which she views as the injured party -- much like I did when my parents argued when I was her age and I thought my mom was the bitch and my dad the blameless one. Of course as I grew older I came to understand that my dad was by no means blameless and that my mother was not the bitch I'd taken her to be.
I suppose that the only thing I can do is keep being her mom and hope that eventually she comes to that realization too. I know some people never do and can't seem to get past blaming their parents. If there's anything up above (and it makes a difference at all anyway) I pray that my kid isn't one of those. She's shown a capacity for wisdom in some arenas that continually surprises me so I hold out hope that she'll eventually see that I'm not a bitch.
I hope she comes to understand as much as she can, even though she'll never have the whole story.
My poor roommate. He's got a year of living with me and my moods, my inscrutable silences, my sadness, my anger and guilt, my jags of crying. I wish sometimes I were alone in that apartment just so I could let it all out. I hold it in because I'm not alone and I feel so tired of having to explain the why of it all the time. He looks at me like he wants to fix it and I just want him to go away and leave me to it.
I head out of town tomorrow. A stay out of town will be nice and getting to spend a few days with my younger brother and his wife will be fun. So I'll be back on Monday.
((Song: "I Don't Blame You" by Cat Power. Lyrics here:
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/I-Don't-Blame-You-lyrics-Cat-Power/66D7DEAC129E709548256D41000D0C21 ))
He said that she'd said a few things that let him know that she was placing a bit of the blame on me. He was quick to say that he felt she was showing him her loyalty by defending him and letting him know she was there for him. He said he always told her not to judge me too harshly and that he did let her speak of her feelings without allowing her to disrespect me in word or deed.
It didn't surprise me. It's anyone's first instinct to lash out and place blame when they hurt. And no matter what she says to my face, she's hurt at this. I'm convenient, the one that makes the most sense to blame. After all, I'm the one that left.
She's defending her dad -- which she views as the injured party -- much like I did when my parents argued when I was her age and I thought my mom was the bitch and my dad the blameless one. Of course as I grew older I came to understand that my dad was by no means blameless and that my mother was not the bitch I'd taken her to be.
I suppose that the only thing I can do is keep being her mom and hope that eventually she comes to that realization too. I know some people never do and can't seem to get past blaming their parents. If there's anything up above (and it makes a difference at all anyway) I pray that my kid isn't one of those. She's shown a capacity for wisdom in some arenas that continually surprises me so I hold out hope that she'll eventually see that I'm not a bitch.
I hope she comes to understand as much as she can, even though she'll never have the whole story.
My poor roommate. He's got a year of living with me and my moods, my inscrutable silences, my sadness, my anger and guilt, my jags of crying. I wish sometimes I were alone in that apartment just so I could let it all out. I hold it in because I'm not alone and I feel so tired of having to explain the why of it all the time. He looks at me like he wants to fix it and I just want him to go away and leave me to it.
I head out of town tomorrow. A stay out of town will be nice and getting to spend a few days with my younger brother and his wife will be fun. So I'll be back on Monday.
((Song: "I Don't Blame You" by Cat Power. Lyrics here:
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/I-Don't-Blame-You-lyrics-Cat-Power/66D7DEAC129E709548256D41000D0C21 ))
Monday, August 13, 2007
...
Had a bit of a laugh this weekend.
It seems that daughter and her best friend put their collective heads together and decided that it would be cool for them to become "sisters." How? By getting her mother together with my stbx-hub, that's how.
I had my kiddo over with me this weekend to hang out and to do her school shopping with her. We had a blast, she was such a joy! I have missed her so much. She is such a great kid.
Anyway, stbx-hub called to speak with me for a bit. We spoke about this and that and then he asked if kiddo had said anything in particular about anything I might have questions about, which made me curious. When I said not that I could think of, he began to tell me about this plan hatched by the two kiddos and said he wanted to fill me in, just in case she said something, and that he thought I should know in any case.
What he told me added detail to the bare bones I'd learned of a bit earlier in the week. I was going to write about that here but got busy doing this or that and never got around to it. It's just as well.
Anyway, apparently last weekend the mom came over to the house and had tea and visited. Can't recall if he said they visited together more than once or not but these visit(s) apparently also led to the mom thinking that something might actually come of this. A few text messages were exchanged which soon became a bit flirty on her end. At that point, hub said, he put a stop to them and did not respond further.
Oh, did I mention that kid's best friend's mother is married? Unhappily (that's never been hidden) but married nonetheless.
It makes sense to me about the girls trying to put things together. They would love to be "sisters," and the man that this woman is married to is not pleasant by any means. That's as much as the kids need to try to move things along.
But as hub told me, married is married. He said he didn't need to have anything complicated in his life and that he wasn't ready to dive back into the waters just yet. Besides, he feels that this woman needs to move on by herself and leave her husband if she wants to without needing the safety net of some other man in order to do so. He considered it a character flaw in her personality and would not consider her even if she were single.
I knew he would. That is the kind of man my ex is.
I hope he finds himself a wonderful lady when he's ready. I'll always wish the very best for him. He deserves it.
It seems that daughter and her best friend put their collective heads together and decided that it would be cool for them to become "sisters." How? By getting her mother together with my stbx-hub, that's how.
I had my kiddo over with me this weekend to hang out and to do her school shopping with her. We had a blast, she was such a joy! I have missed her so much. She is such a great kid.
Anyway, stbx-hub called to speak with me for a bit. We spoke about this and that and then he asked if kiddo had said anything in particular about anything I might have questions about, which made me curious. When I said not that I could think of, he began to tell me about this plan hatched by the two kiddos and said he wanted to fill me in, just in case she said something, and that he thought I should know in any case.
What he told me added detail to the bare bones I'd learned of a bit earlier in the week. I was going to write about that here but got busy doing this or that and never got around to it. It's just as well.
Anyway, apparently last weekend the mom came over to the house and had tea and visited. Can't recall if he said they visited together more than once or not but these visit(s) apparently also led to the mom thinking that something might actually come of this. A few text messages were exchanged which soon became a bit flirty on her end. At that point, hub said, he put a stop to them and did not respond further.
Oh, did I mention that kid's best friend's mother is married? Unhappily (that's never been hidden) but married nonetheless.
It makes sense to me about the girls trying to put things together. They would love to be "sisters," and the man that this woman is married to is not pleasant by any means. That's as much as the kids need to try to move things along.
But as hub told me, married is married. He said he didn't need to have anything complicated in his life and that he wasn't ready to dive back into the waters just yet. Besides, he feels that this woman needs to move on by herself and leave her husband if she wants to without needing the safety net of some other man in order to do so. He considered it a character flaw in her personality and would not consider her even if she were single.
I knew he would. That is the kind of man my ex is.
I hope he finds himself a wonderful lady when he's ready. I'll always wish the very best for him. He deserves it.
Friday, August 10, 2007
I Am Strong, I Am Invincible
I've been keeping myself occupied these last weeks drawing deep internal breaths and figuring out where I wish my life to go from here -- well, letting it sort of gel at the back of my mind. While it's gelling I've been spending some time reading and relaxing as well as drawing up a list with goals I wish to set for myself and projects I'd like to complete.
I'm not sure when I'll get to all these things but right now that's not the point. I've been letting these things come up from inside me and I've grabbed a pen to write them down as they did. I'll weed things out and figure out which ones to tackle first at a later date. For right now, I'm needing the mental rebooting time. And believe me, I'm enjoying it!
I've been reading a book called "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir. You can find part of the book here. It's pretty fascinating. I am really, really enjoying it so far. It's nice to read something that opens the doors to your mind and really makes you think!
As I'm reading it, I'm laughing at myself. I've never embraced the word feminist, feeling that it was much ado about nothing -- a bunch of women that felt disenfranchised (much like teenagers do when they group up because they want to be different, not grasping that they are doing what everyone else does) and who took the feeling of being excluded out on everyone else. Heck, I didn't have time for the snot-nosed whining of the poor poor pitiful me variety. I always said instead that I was an equalist. Meaning, of course, that I believed in equal pay for equal work and all that jazz but that I enjoyed feeling female and being treated with the respect due me. I relished the idea that we weren't the same in all the ways that mattered and that I'd never felt pushed aside or devalued for any of my thoughts or ideas by any of the men I spent my time with.
But these days I'm wondering if I'm just a little slow to catch up.
Over the years there have been many times I've felt my resentment build against societal mores, roles designed to put women into simple, easy little niches of behavior. Hypocrisies of thought and deed. While it is so easy to blame men for all the issues, I cannot in good faith do so. On some of those occasions I would recognize that these attitudes were not only engendered by men but encouraged by other women. It has been my experience that if a woman made no bones about the fact that she slept with whomever she chose, some of the very first people to round on her with teeth bared, calling her names like slut, would be other women. Ah, but we women are hard on each other.
I wonder how much of my feeling about being "Othered" (de Beauvoir's word) came from my own inability to feel like my opinions, my feelings, my thoughts......mySELF....would not be accepted? Were not as valuable as those of others around me? In other words, how much of this was external and how much internal? Who can say, really?
I have a lot of issues that I could touch upon and probably will as I read through the book, but right offhand my biggest one is this: I am disgusted with the focus on sex. Not just the "act" of sex but the desire for it, the search for it, and the things done on its behalf. My respect for men has lessened considerably through the years because of what appears to be their enslavement to it in particular, when quite simply it is nothing but one of many great pleasures in life. I scorn a man for his apparent inability to consider my brain as independent of my body, yet I am vaguely injured when he does. Ah, I am a hypocritical creature, aren't I?
I'm not objective in this, though; far from it. I'm very aware that much of the disgust I carry is due to my own medical troubles and because this issue helped implode my marriage. I am also upset that my own natural desire for sex has been poisoned by my medical trials, and this resentment makes me jealous of those who can -- and do -- enjoy it without thought and take it for granted.
Obviously I have many things to work through but unlike a few years ago, I am now confident that I will. I am looking so forward to continuing to ponder the book and exploring my reactions to it!
((Song: "I Am Woman" by Helen Reddy. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsdepot.com/helen-reddy/i-am-woman.html ))
I'm not sure when I'll get to all these things but right now that's not the point. I've been letting these things come up from inside me and I've grabbed a pen to write them down as they did. I'll weed things out and figure out which ones to tackle first at a later date. For right now, I'm needing the mental rebooting time. And believe me, I'm enjoying it!
I've been reading a book called "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir. You can find part of the book here. It's pretty fascinating. I am really, really enjoying it so far. It's nice to read something that opens the doors to your mind and really makes you think!
As I'm reading it, I'm laughing at myself. I've never embraced the word feminist, feeling that it was much ado about nothing -- a bunch of women that felt disenfranchised (much like teenagers do when they group up because they want to be different, not grasping that they are doing what everyone else does) and who took the feeling of being excluded out on everyone else. Heck, I didn't have time for the snot-nosed whining of the poor poor pitiful me variety. I always said instead that I was an equalist. Meaning, of course, that I believed in equal pay for equal work and all that jazz but that I enjoyed feeling female and being treated with the respect due me. I relished the idea that we weren't the same in all the ways that mattered and that I'd never felt pushed aside or devalued for any of my thoughts or ideas by any of the men I spent my time with.
But these days I'm wondering if I'm just a little slow to catch up.
Over the years there have been many times I've felt my resentment build against societal mores, roles designed to put women into simple, easy little niches of behavior. Hypocrisies of thought and deed. While it is so easy to blame men for all the issues, I cannot in good faith do so. On some of those occasions I would recognize that these attitudes were not only engendered by men but encouraged by other women. It has been my experience that if a woman made no bones about the fact that she slept with whomever she chose, some of the very first people to round on her with teeth bared, calling her names like slut, would be other women. Ah, but we women are hard on each other.
I wonder how much of my feeling about being "Othered" (de Beauvoir's word) came from my own inability to feel like my opinions, my feelings, my thoughts......mySELF....would not be accepted? Were not as valuable as those of others around me? In other words, how much of this was external and how much internal? Who can say, really?
I have a lot of issues that I could touch upon and probably will as I read through the book, but right offhand my biggest one is this: I am disgusted with the focus on sex. Not just the "act" of sex but the desire for it, the search for it, and the things done on its behalf. My respect for men has lessened considerably through the years because of what appears to be their enslavement to it in particular, when quite simply it is nothing but one of many great pleasures in life. I scorn a man for his apparent inability to consider my brain as independent of my body, yet I am vaguely injured when he does. Ah, I am a hypocritical creature, aren't I?
I'm not objective in this, though; far from it. I'm very aware that much of the disgust I carry is due to my own medical troubles and because this issue helped implode my marriage. I am also upset that my own natural desire for sex has been poisoned by my medical trials, and this resentment makes me jealous of those who can -- and do -- enjoy it without thought and take it for granted.
Obviously I have many things to work through but unlike a few years ago, I am now confident that I will. I am looking so forward to continuing to ponder the book and exploring my reactions to it!
((Song: "I Am Woman" by Helen Reddy. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsdepot.com/helen-reddy/i-am-woman.html ))
Sunday, August 5, 2007
It's Time To Be What I Need To Be
So much has happened these last weeks that I'd be hard pressed to condense it all into anything resembling coherence. So let me put it this way: I've moved out, I've moved in, I've unpacked, I've fallen apart, I've put myself back together. Ironic thing is, the physical part is the easy part. The mental and emotional hoops I've been leaping through, however? Not so easy.
It's a work in progress.
Closing chapters, opening new ones. It's weird but I feel perched on the precipice of some huge new chasm and normally I'd be petrified because anyone who knows me knows how terrified I am of heights. Here I am though, walking to the edge and looking down for once without too much of that breath-stealing fear in my breast. It's liberating. There are thoughts and feelings there, new ways of being there, that I knew were within me but always just that little bit out of reach. Tethered by my choices. Now that my choices are new, I can let all of them come out of their self-imposed asylums. I am becoming. Does that make any sense at all?
Honesty. Integrity. Words I'd heard of, know the definitions of. Words I pretended to use. Not just words anymore. I want to walk into them and let them be part of me and stop staring at them from afar. That is my goal. I've done pretty well so far. I'm proud of myself and frankly, that is something I've not been able to say for a long time with a straight face and a straight backbone.
Before I moved into my own place I'd made some decisions that I thought would be best for myself during this time and for the most part I've kept with those decisions, with one pretty glaring exception. While I don't really wish to go into here about what that decision was and how I changed my mind about it, suffice to say that instead of feeling trapped by the consequences of that decision it has given me rare insight into the origins of some of my deepest, darkest, most disturbing feelings. It has given me a true glimpse of freedom and has offered me one very potent word: validation. I hear a resounding, "It is okay now." And I find myself glad for deciding to renege on that one decision. I made the best decision after all.
I've spoken a few times to BiB. Only short things, nothing personal or anything. Polite. Is this how it will always be, just polite? I don't know. But at least I've accepted that I don't. I'm just not in control here. Sometimes it's much harder to accept that you aren't. At least I've managed to do that. I'm moving forward here as well.
I've been subject to thoughts and feelings brought to the forefront lately because of my release from things I'd long accepted as crosses to bear due to the life I'd chosen. Those things that you consider tradeoffs in your life, you know? I don't feel like censoring my feelings or thoughts about these issues so I'm aware they'll sound shallow, or ungrateful, or just downright mean. Yet they are my thoughts and feelings, no matter how they may seem. I make no apologies.
My husband's mother's health is declining. I am quite sure she has emphysema and perhaps even COPD (though both are undiagnosed because she has no medical insurance other than medicaid.) While she has four children, I had always wondered if my husband and I would be the ones called upon to take care of her as she got older instead of the others because we made the best living. I have always thought fondly of my mother-in-law, I've valued her wisdom and warmth over the years, and even now she speaks to me kindly and gives me consideration even as I have chosen to leave her son. She is a good woman and I love her but I will have enough to worry about with my own parents and my future role in their golden years. I am not the sort of person capable of the inexhaustible emotional energy required for the job of caretaker for anyone that I have not given birth to or was birthed by. I would harbor resentment towards her, and that is a road I don't wish to walk. I am relieved that she is no longer my responsibility.
On that subject -- resentment. I have realized my capability for that particular emotion is high, and I've also acknowledged the damage I have done to people in my life by holding resentment against them that they had no way of knowing, much less fixing. So in the interest of my further well-being and for anyone that becomes dear to me, I have decided -- one of my many new determinations! -- that I will no longer allow myself to swallow my hurt feelings, to do things I don't wish to do, or to feel beholden to anyone. It is a lot more difficult to do than I imagined but I have been doing it. The relief I have felt is palpable. I am agog that it's taken me 40 years to grow enough of a pair to follow through. But it isn't too late, not at all.
Back to some of the things I no longer have to concern myself with.
My husband's youngest sister, while a lot more adult than she has ever acted in the past, still seems to struggle with money. She lived with us a long time ago and was irresponsible with her part of the bills, etc., and I admit to holding resentment against her for that even all these years later. I have a particular form of disdain for anyone who is financially irresponsible -- I can mix and mingle with anyone from all walks of life, except people who are nothing but fucking moocher bums and live off the pocketbooks of others. Call it the way I was raised. Poor, but proud, damn it.
Anyway, lately she borrowed a few grand from my husband to put in her checking account so she and her husband could qualify for a house. Now hub didn't have this few grand and decided to get a credit card and take out the few grand and give it to her because she planned to return it as soon as they qualified. You can guess where this is going, can't you? Their car broke down, they needed half a grand for repairs. The house deal fell through, have they wired the money back yet? No. So hub is paying interest and fees for this card, making payments, etc etc. All for "family." He's always been this way, it always bothered me. I don't have to let it bother me any more. My smile about that one is wide.
This third one is a bit more sticky to admit. It is, because it concerns my daughter. I am enjoying her and I am relieved that to some extent she is not my day to day responsibility anymore either -- meaning the push and pull, the arguments, the bumping of heads. I suspect that this relief will fade and I'll once more look forward to dealing with the day to day stuff, but she's a teenager now and a lot of her raising has been accomplished. She knows right from wrong. She realizes many things now and needs guidance and a ready ear much more than she needs a spanking and a harsh word. A friend of mine said recently to me that I needed to "keep your door and heart open for her......even if she never leans on you, she'll notice."
God, I hope so. I feel so desperately guilty sometimes. I think that I am her mother and she should be with me, that I am being a horrid parent, running away from all that responsibility and only wanting the fun stuff. But that's what I DO want, and there it is. All that nasty feeling revealed. I've noticed though, that my daughter is a lot more concerned with her father than with me. She knows he is hurt, she worries about him, and she is more comfortable talking to him because she knows he won't press her for all those "but how do you feel deep down inside?" questions that I do. She's not a girl that likes to talk about all that stuff. I'm learning that.
This too shall pass, I know. It will all be all right. I do hope and depend on that, and tell myself that daily. I have to.
A few more realizations. All this stuff aside, all this guilt and regret and self-hatred for making my hub feel unwanted and unneeded, for leaving him alone to make his own way after nearly two decades together.......I truly LIKE living by myself, sleeping in my own bed, making my own money. Yeah, I'm scared. I want to run back into the shelter of $80k a year. But a friend said to me a week or so ago that those feelings were precisely the reason why I shouldn't, that doing something scary meant doing something important, and that right now, doing something because of need was doing it for the wrong reasons.
I want to live honestly.
One last thing. I've thought a bit about my personal needs. Relationship-wise. I've long realized that I tend to seek out emotional affairs -- the easy way to get my needs met as opposed to doing the work that a relationship requires. As soon as it gets tough I begin to check out. A little special attention from someone new is addictive. The men I choose don't know me as a wife or mother, but simply as a woman. They are people who remind me of the person I used to be and hope to find again.
I hope that soon I won't need anyone to remind me of the person I used to be. I hope that the person I am and the person I used to be will finally be one and the same. Maybe, just maybe, I won't need to pretend anymore.
((Song: "Free" by VAST. Lyrics here:
http://lyrics.rockmagic.net/lyrics/vast/music_for_people_2000.html#02 ))
It's a work in progress.
Closing chapters, opening new ones. It's weird but I feel perched on the precipice of some huge new chasm and normally I'd be petrified because anyone who knows me knows how terrified I am of heights. Here I am though, walking to the edge and looking down for once without too much of that breath-stealing fear in my breast. It's liberating. There are thoughts and feelings there, new ways of being there, that I knew were within me but always just that little bit out of reach. Tethered by my choices. Now that my choices are new, I can let all of them come out of their self-imposed asylums. I am becoming. Does that make any sense at all?
Honesty. Integrity. Words I'd heard of, know the definitions of. Words I pretended to use. Not just words anymore. I want to walk into them and let them be part of me and stop staring at them from afar. That is my goal. I've done pretty well so far. I'm proud of myself and frankly, that is something I've not been able to say for a long time with a straight face and a straight backbone.
Before I moved into my own place I'd made some decisions that I thought would be best for myself during this time and for the most part I've kept with those decisions, with one pretty glaring exception. While I don't really wish to go into here about what that decision was and how I changed my mind about it, suffice to say that instead of feeling trapped by the consequences of that decision it has given me rare insight into the origins of some of my deepest, darkest, most disturbing feelings. It has given me a true glimpse of freedom and has offered me one very potent word: validation. I hear a resounding, "It is okay now." And I find myself glad for deciding to renege on that one decision. I made the best decision after all.
I've spoken a few times to BiB. Only short things, nothing personal or anything. Polite. Is this how it will always be, just polite? I don't know. But at least I've accepted that I don't. I'm just not in control here. Sometimes it's much harder to accept that you aren't. At least I've managed to do that. I'm moving forward here as well.
I've been subject to thoughts and feelings brought to the forefront lately because of my release from things I'd long accepted as crosses to bear due to the life I'd chosen. Those things that you consider tradeoffs in your life, you know? I don't feel like censoring my feelings or thoughts about these issues so I'm aware they'll sound shallow, or ungrateful, or just downright mean. Yet they are my thoughts and feelings, no matter how they may seem. I make no apologies.
My husband's mother's health is declining. I am quite sure she has emphysema and perhaps even COPD (though both are undiagnosed because she has no medical insurance other than medicaid.) While she has four children, I had always wondered if my husband and I would be the ones called upon to take care of her as she got older instead of the others because we made the best living. I have always thought fondly of my mother-in-law, I've valued her wisdom and warmth over the years, and even now she speaks to me kindly and gives me consideration even as I have chosen to leave her son. She is a good woman and I love her but I will have enough to worry about with my own parents and my future role in their golden years. I am not the sort of person capable of the inexhaustible emotional energy required for the job of caretaker for anyone that I have not given birth to or was birthed by. I would harbor resentment towards her, and that is a road I don't wish to walk. I am relieved that she is no longer my responsibility.
On that subject -- resentment. I have realized my capability for that particular emotion is high, and I've also acknowledged the damage I have done to people in my life by holding resentment against them that they had no way of knowing, much less fixing. So in the interest of my further well-being and for anyone that becomes dear to me, I have decided -- one of my many new determinations! -- that I will no longer allow myself to swallow my hurt feelings, to do things I don't wish to do, or to feel beholden to anyone. It is a lot more difficult to do than I imagined but I have been doing it. The relief I have felt is palpable. I am agog that it's taken me 40 years to grow enough of a pair to follow through. But it isn't too late, not at all.
Back to some of the things I no longer have to concern myself with.
My husband's youngest sister, while a lot more adult than she has ever acted in the past, still seems to struggle with money. She lived with us a long time ago and was irresponsible with her part of the bills, etc., and I admit to holding resentment against her for that even all these years later. I have a particular form of disdain for anyone who is financially irresponsible -- I can mix and mingle with anyone from all walks of life, except people who are nothing but fucking moocher bums and live off the pocketbooks of others. Call it the way I was raised. Poor, but proud, damn it.
Anyway, lately she borrowed a few grand from my husband to put in her checking account so she and her husband could qualify for a house. Now hub didn't have this few grand and decided to get a credit card and take out the few grand and give it to her because she planned to return it as soon as they qualified. You can guess where this is going, can't you? Their car broke down, they needed half a grand for repairs. The house deal fell through, have they wired the money back yet? No. So hub is paying interest and fees for this card, making payments, etc etc. All for "family." He's always been this way, it always bothered me. I don't have to let it bother me any more. My smile about that one is wide.
This third one is a bit more sticky to admit. It is, because it concerns my daughter. I am enjoying her and I am relieved that to some extent she is not my day to day responsibility anymore either -- meaning the push and pull, the arguments, the bumping of heads. I suspect that this relief will fade and I'll once more look forward to dealing with the day to day stuff, but she's a teenager now and a lot of her raising has been accomplished. She knows right from wrong. She realizes many things now and needs guidance and a ready ear much more than she needs a spanking and a harsh word. A friend of mine said recently to me that I needed to "keep your door and heart open for her......even if she never leans on you, she'll notice."
God, I hope so. I feel so desperately guilty sometimes. I think that I am her mother and she should be with me, that I am being a horrid parent, running away from all that responsibility and only wanting the fun stuff. But that's what I DO want, and there it is. All that nasty feeling revealed. I've noticed though, that my daughter is a lot more concerned with her father than with me. She knows he is hurt, she worries about him, and she is more comfortable talking to him because she knows he won't press her for all those "but how do you feel deep down inside?" questions that I do. She's not a girl that likes to talk about all that stuff. I'm learning that.
This too shall pass, I know. It will all be all right. I do hope and depend on that, and tell myself that daily. I have to.
A few more realizations. All this stuff aside, all this guilt and regret and self-hatred for making my hub feel unwanted and unneeded, for leaving him alone to make his own way after nearly two decades together.......I truly LIKE living by myself, sleeping in my own bed, making my own money. Yeah, I'm scared. I want to run back into the shelter of $80k a year. But a friend said to me a week or so ago that those feelings were precisely the reason why I shouldn't, that doing something scary meant doing something important, and that right now, doing something because of need was doing it for the wrong reasons.
I want to live honestly.
One last thing. I've thought a bit about my personal needs. Relationship-wise. I've long realized that I tend to seek out emotional affairs -- the easy way to get my needs met as opposed to doing the work that a relationship requires. As soon as it gets tough I begin to check out. A little special attention from someone new is addictive. The men I choose don't know me as a wife or mother, but simply as a woman. They are people who remind me of the person I used to be and hope to find again.
I hope that soon I won't need anyone to remind me of the person I used to be. I hope that the person I am and the person I used to be will finally be one and the same. Maybe, just maybe, I won't need to pretend anymore.
((Song: "Free" by VAST. Lyrics here:
http://lyrics.rockmagic.net/lyrics/vast/music_for_people_2000.html#02 ))
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)